


Nothing

by GellyBelly13



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-25
Updated: 2013-09-25
Packaged: 2017-12-27 14:56:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/980242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GellyBelly13/pseuds/GellyBelly13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A songfic/one-shot I wrote a while ago inspired by the song, 'Nothing' by The Script. Spamano fluffiness, hope you all enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nothing

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN HETALIA OR ANY OF THE CHARACTERS IN THIS FIC OR THE SONG NOTHING BY THE SCRIPT!!!! =’(
> 
> Warning: Shonen-ai (boyxboy) and personified countries ahead! 
> 
> AN: First Hetalia fic, be nice to me!!! This was inspired by the song Nothing by The Script. The idea just popped into my head and I wrote this a while back I recently finished it and decided to publish it so, here you go! I hope you enjoy the fluff.

Spain wasn’t sure how everything had just fallen apart around him. One moment everything seemed to be fine between him and Romano, and now everything was like this, broken and empty. It had just been a fight like any other, a pretty common occurrence in their ‘relationship’, but this time…this time things got out of hand and Romano, he..he left and said he was going to take the first flight he could back to Italy.

Seeing him walk out that door, luggage in hand not even bothering to acknowledge Spain’s existence anymore, shocked the Spaniard to the point where he couldn’t even make a move to stop him, to stop his Roma from leaving him. 

He deserved this pain though, it was his fault for hurting Romano in their latest argument, even though Romano had hurt him countless times before, albeit unknowingly. He knew how sensitive Romano was, and yet….an uncharacteristic sigh escaped the Spaniard and a frown seemingly forced its’ way unto his face and consumed the light that always adorned his features. ‘Am I better off dead, am I better off a quitter? They say I’m better off now, than I ever was with him…’ He just didn’t know what to think anymore.  
His gloomy thoughts were broken by a knock on his door, knowing who it was he got up reluctantly to answer it. When he opened the door he was greeted by the only friends he still had in the world, Prussia and France, they had come to take him for a night of drinking and partying at the local bar down the street. 

“Are you ready to get down and forget about that no good Italian?!” Prussia asked.

Spain winced, how could they say that about Romano? He brushed past his albino friend and started walking down the street. They shrugged and followed him. As they made their way to the bar Spain laughed and smiled as he spoke with France and Prussia, or at least trying to, so he would not drag his feet and let himself fall back into the depression that consumed him while he was alone. But even as they made their way into the bar, Spain couldn’t completely shake off the melancholy in his demeanor. 

“Spain, mon ami, you must try to let go and forget or votre coeur will never heal.” France said sipping his wine.

“A few drinks will help you wipe him from your thoughts!” Exclaimed the Prussian as he chugged down another beer.

He looked at the drink in his hands hesitantly before he drank it. Maybe it would make him feel better….

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

A while past ‘a few drinks’ and approaching ‘one too many’, Spain still felt the pain, drunk or not, he knew he’d never be able to forget. Thinking he’d be about to forget was the silliest thing he had ever thought. He got up from his seat, looked at his friends and simply said, “I’m gonna go find him.” And he left. This was the only thing that made sense to him at the moment; finding Romano. 

“Spain, wait, you’re crazy! Come back here!” He heard Prussia scream out, but he kept going and actually began to yell. 

“Lovino, where are you?!” 

“Roma!” 

“Lovi, where did you go?!” 

“Romano!” 

He sounded like a crazy drunk yelling out Romano’s name all over town. 

“Okay, you’ve definitely had too much to drink, Espagne.” France said wrapping his arms around Spain and trying to calm the brunet down. 

He shook off the Frenchman and kept on going, he swore that if he went to where Romano was right now he could fix things, turn it all around. Spain knew he was drunk but he had to tell Romano how he felt now, even if everything came out slurred, he knew that he’d listen to what he had to say this time, he just had to……

Spain finally got a clear coherent stream of thought going in his clouded mind, he’d call Romano, it was a long shot but he had to try. He took out his phone and dialed Romano’s number then waited anxiously for an answer. The ringing finally stopped and he knew that the phone had been answered; he wasted no time in blurting out the words he wanted to say, fearing that Romano might hang up on him. 

“I’m still in love with you Roma, por favor come back!” 

“…..” Nothing, nothing at all. Silence was the only reply that graced his ear for what seemed like hours. 

Spain bit his lip and said the first thing that came to mind, “I’m going to find you, Lovi.” And then hung up the phone, the silence was too much.  
The only thing Spain could think of doing next was going to the hotel that Romano liked staying at; maybe, just maybe he’d catch him there. 

So, he stumbled there, along the railings and the fences….  
He knew if they were face to face that he’d come to his senses. Every drunken step he took led him to that door, closer to where he wanted, needed to be. Maybe if he saw how much he was hurting, how much he cared, Romano would come back to him. Surely he had to…..

When he finally arrived he persuaded the female desk clerk to give him the key to the room she knew an Italian had rented, easily obtaining it. Now, as he stood in front of the room with the key in his hand he stopped before opening it. Sometimes love was intoxicating, even more so than alcohol, the buzz was fading, he was coming down from his drunken high and his hands were shaking as he held the key. What the alcohol had numbed came back full force and he painfully realized that there was no one waiting for him in that room, there was no one who wanted to see him in there, there was only someone who probably hated him. ‘Am I better off dead, am I better off a quitter? They say I’m better off now than I ever was with him, but maybe he’s better off without me…’ Those morose thoughts from earlier resurfaced in his mind, he didn’t want Romano to be unhappy, if he wanted to leave Spain maybe he should let him…..

Just as he was about to retract the key from the lock, the door swung open and revealed a melancholic Italian whose expression turned to shock as soon as he looked up at the intrusive figure. 

In the very instant that Spain’s emerald eyes met Romano’s honey brown one’s, he immediately remembered why he’d gone so far for this person, he loved Romano and could not let him slip from his grasp so easily. 

Before Romano could run off he grabbed his arm firmly and looked into his honey eyes once more. 

“Romano, I love you. I’m sorry if what I said hurt you, but I truly do love you, con todo mi corazon, and I always will.” Antonia gave him the warmest smile he could muster to convince him that every word he spoke was the truth even though some still came out slurred and the corners of his lips twitched slightly, revealing how hard it was for him to smile in that moment, how terrified he was even though he was glad to see Romano. 

“…..” Nothing. Yet again he was greeted with the agonizing reply of silence. The other mans lips remained as stone; still. 

Spain’s smile faltered, the frown once again spreading across his lips with a sickening familiarity, dissipating the light that had illuminated his face for just a mere moment. Oh, how Spain wanted words to come from the Italian, any words, whether they were of hate or love, just something to substitute the nothingness. 

Just as Spain was about to give up and leave, he felt a light tug on his sleeve and turned back to Romano. Before he could utter a word in response his lips were covered by the Italian’s soft, pink ones. The kiss was a mixture of want and apology but most importantly, full of forgiveness. The passionate display of affection was so rare for the hot-headed Italian that Spain could barely reciprocate the action because of his surprise. Before he could compose himself, Romano pulled away and Spain felt cold without the warmth of the Italian’s lips on his own. He was about to move forward and recapture them, but was paralyzed by the sound he heard as he stepped forward. It was the most beautiful sound he had heard all night and the only sound he had wanted to hear; it was Romano’s voice, finally he had spoken, and they were the words he needed to hear the most….

“I love you too Idiota. I’m sorry for leaving.” The brunet admitted reluctantly as he looked in the opposite direction of the Spaniards face. 

Spain smiled, from ear to ear, and the light that had faded from his face was back full force as he smiled genuinely and brilliantly at the small man in front of him. This time he did not hesitate to lunge at Romano and embrace him tightly. The Italian was taken aback but slowly hugged the taller man back. 

“I was so scared that you were gone.” Spain admitted. 

Romano smiled. “Don’t worry I’m not going anywhere.” 

Spain pulled away slightly and then leaned in to capture Romano’s lips. This kiss was tender and loving and filled with gratitude for the person in his arms. The emptiness was gone and replaced with the warmth and love that Spain held for his Romano. The Italian slowly melted into the warmth of the kiss and wrapped his slender arms around Spain’s neck. As the kiss deepened, their need for oxygen grew and they were forced to pull away breathlessly. Both of their faces flushed and their lips red; they smiled contentedly at one another. 

“I love you.” Spain repeated.

“You don’t have to say it so much.” Romano said as he turned red and looked away. 

Spain only kept smiling and took hold of Romano’s hand.  
“Let’s go home, mi pequeño tomate.” He spoke the endearment lovingly. 

Romano turned an even darker shade of red. “I am not your damn pomodoro!” 

And so, everything was back to normal. As they walked the streets hand in hand, they knew neither was going to let go anytime soon.

**Author's Note:**

> AN: Fluff, fluff, fluff! I hope you all enjoyed it and please, tell me what you think. I welcome constructive criticism. =) Thanks for reading and be a darling and review? Per favore?  
> Translations:  
> Mi pequeño tomate – my little tomato  
> pomodoro – tomato  
> Votre coeur – your heart  
> Mon ami – my friend  
> Con todo mi corazon – with all my heart  
> Por favor – Please


End file.
